Shut Up Much?
by Keilantrasquill
Summary: Much leaves camp after the gang tell him to shut up repeated at the end of For England! He wanders the forest while having inner dialog with himself. Djaq follows Much and discusses the situation.


**Disclaimer:** The characters belong to the BBC/Tiger aspect, this is a non-commercial work of fan fiction.

**A/N:** Written for the missing scenes / postscript contest on the Robin Hood Fan Community. Many thanks to my beta, LadyKate63, for helping me with my first RH fanfic.

This scene is a postscript to episode 2x06, "For England!" The scene takes place in the Outlaw's Camp and Sherwood Forest.

After everyone was done throwing their hunks of bread at him, Much pursed his lips indignantly and stormed out of the camp. He crunched through the forest, not caring if anyone heard him or followed him; though, actually, he hoped that no one would follow. _Shut up, Much!_ How could they be so insensitive? They had all had a long day at the castle, between watching Robin almost get killed and trying to keep their weapons hidden. Yet when they arrived back at the camp, he was the only one to start cooking the squirrel stew! And the bread was old and hard because no one had bothered to take any on the way out of the castle.

"If this is how it's going to be," he said to himself, "then I'm not going to do all the work around the camp. And … and…" he tried to think of another suitable threat. "And I won't talk! To anyone!"

Out of habit, he started picking up wood for the fire. Then he threw it down. "No. I said I wasn't going to do all the work for them! I won't let them treat me this way. If they want to know what I think they'll have to ask or beg…yes…beg. I like that." He looked up to see if anyone had heard his plan, but all he saw was trees and more trees, and the sun setting. _I'll get lost if I wander any further from the camp_, he thought to himself. Much hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going while he was thinking and ranting about the others.

Much turned around and started walking back. He had barely passed three trees when he heard a voice say, "Much! Are you all right?"

It was Djaq, looking Much straight in the eye - or at least that's what he thought he saw since it was getting dark. He looked down at his feet because he didn't know what to say. Should he say he was, even though he wasn't? Should he say that he was sick and tired of doing all the work and not getting any credit? No, wait … he had already decided that he was going to make them beg before he told them anything. And there he was, about to go off rambling again!

Much looked up at Djaq, "I… Well, I -"

Djaq smiled. "Go on, Much. Tell me what's on your mind."

Much sighed, opened his mouth to speak and then promptly closed it again. He paused, then blurted out, "I don't think I should."

She looked shocked. "What?"

"You told me to shut up, didn't you? All of you. So I'm shutting up. All you ever do is take advantage of me, and what's worse, you don't respect me!"

Djaq looked down. Then she said, "We do."

"You do?" He gave her a wary look. "You do what? Respect me, or – take advantage of me?"

"Actually, both. We do take advantage of you. But we do respect you, even if we don't show it." She walked forward and put her hand on his shoulder and continued with a straight face, "We know you are the only one in the camp that can cook a decent meal. If you had to rely on _my _cooking, the whole gang might be dead by now. So, you see, you're actually keeping us alive."

Much laughed just a little bit. "That is true."

As they started back to camp, he frowned again. "You say you respect me. Well, how come nobody else gets told to shut up?"

"I'm sorry about that," Djaq said. "You're a good man, Much. Would you like me to talk to the others for you?"

Much looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "No. You don't have to defend me." He paused, then couldn't resist asking, "What were you going to tell them?"

"That you do all the hard working cooking the food and they could at least help catch it. And it would be good practice to improve their aim. Some of them need it."

Much thought about it. "Sure. As long as it isn't with the actual cooking because then, you know, it's not going to taste as good."

"It's a deal," Djaq said.

They walked until they reached the edge of the camp. By now Much was feeling embarrassed about making such a big deal of this. "I _was_ being annoying, wasn't I," he said dejectedly. "I mean, I _was _talking a lot and, you know – rambling. I don't do that all the time, do I?"

"No, of course not," Djaq said. "Just most of the time."

Much gave her a shocked look. "What?"

"I mean, most of the time when we're eating. Or fighting. Or walking."

Much stopped while Djaq kept walking on.

"Hey! That's not fair. You lure me back to the camp just to insult me! You might as well have told me to shut up again, Djaq. I don't think I want to come back to camp tonight if that's how you're all going to be. And I'm back to not talking!" Much stood outside the camp and dramatically folded his arms on his chest.

Djaq stopped and turned.

"Come on, Much." She smiled. "It wouldn't be the same without you talking. It would be quieter, but it wouldn't be the same."

Much couldn't help smiling back. "All right, then. I'll talk."

"Come on," Djaq said, "we have the King's birthday to celebrate."

"You better not divide the cake without me," Much said. "I made it!"

He followed her into camp. _Oh, I'll talk all right,_ he thought. _I'll talk so much she'll be sorry she got me to change my mind._ Because, really, listening to his own thoughts and not speaking them out loud was pretty annoying.


End file.
